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Beauvoir smiled, and Gamache fell silent. Knowing if he did, Jean-Guy would lose the battle and let himself drift off to sleep.

He’d told Beauvoir about the search of the Tracey home. Then Beauvoir had reported on their preliminary findings at the bridge.

Now Gamache, in the silence as Jean-Guy slept, went back over that conversation.

“We lifted three sets of fresh prints off the interior of the car,” Beauvoir had said. “Probably Vivienne’s and Tracey’s. But the third?”

“Can we prove that she wasn’t alone? That someone was on the bridge with her?”

“No. That’s a problem. The heavy rain washed away all foot and tire prints.”

“Shame.” Gamache thought for a moment. “But we still think she either met someone there. Something happened, and she went off the bridge. Or—”

“Or Tracey followed her there and killed her.”

“But if he wanted her dead, why wait until she left?” mused Gamache, keeping his eyes on the highway. “He struck me as someone who doesn’t plan ahead. I can imagine him lashing out and killing her that night, in their home, either on purpose or in a fit of rage, but to follow her?”

“He told you he left her in the living room and went into his studio and drank, right?”

“Oui.”

“Maybe he worked himself into a rage. Getting angrier and angrier the more he thought about Vivienne and another man. He sees her leave and decides to follow her, thinking she’s meeting her lover.”

Gamache nodded. That, he could see.

“He’d confront them. Do you think there really was a lover?” Beauvoir asked, then yawned.

“Must have been,” said Gamache. “At least in your scenario. Otherwise why would she drive to the bridge?”

“Okay, she goes to meet a lover, but then wouldn’t Tracey kill him, too?”

“Maybe he did. But I doubt it,” Gamache said. “Like all abusers and bullies, Tracey’s a coward. He wouldn’t attack someone who could fight back.”

“So if he did follow Vivienne, he found her alone on the bridge. Waiting. And threw her in.”

“What did you find there?”

“I discovered I don’t like rotten bridges over rivers in flood.”

“Ahhh,” said Gamache. “Most helpful. Anything else?”

“Wouldn’t take much to break through the railing. It was broken from the inside out and looks recent. I think there’s little doubt that’s where Vivienne fell.”

“Any actual proof?”

“Not yet. We’re testing the wood for fibers and blood. We’ve removed the section where she broke through so technicians can take a closer look in the lab. Then there’s the duffel bag,” said Beauvoir. “Lacoste pointed out that most of the clothes are for summer.”

“Huh,” said Gamache. “That’s strange.”

“Not the only strange thing. You know those pills in the bag?”

“Yes.”

“They’re abortion pills.”

“They’re what?” Gamache glanced over quickly before returning his eyes to the road.

“Medication to end an early pregnancy. Looks like she got them on the black market.”